due South: A Buck and Change 9	Warnings: R M/M sexual activity,
disclaimer, one wash-your-mouth-out-with-soap swear word. And a last
warning, there's another drag scene in here. It covers about the last half
of this episode. If you're tired of *that* particular silliness skip that
part. You'll catch on to the *plot* in the next ep without losing much
ground. Probably. BTW, Wolfwalker *proved* to me there's a plot. Sent me
parts 1 through 8 deslashed and deNC-17'd. I was amazed! 

Promises: Last time we had no cruelty to anything, (except a Detective and
they hardly count, right? Hey!) so this time I thought I'd see if that
would work again. Other promises, a *better* experience, shopping, fashion
advice, Frannie, mood music, and lovely fragrance. A *ladies* episode.
;)   Quiz by Laurie Taylor. Ltaylor@provider.uk.  Beta Reading by Dyevka  
A BUCK & CHANGE  - Episode 9   or The Red Line by Mitch Hudson   

"No, Officer. We were weaving because my *friend* here tried to shock me
to death just now." Ray shifted enough to pull out his badge along with
his driver's license. 

"Oh, Detective Vecchio," the patrolman exclaimed with delighted
recognition. He squatted lower and shined the powerful flashlight into the
tiny car. "And you're Constable Fraser! I saw you guys on TV today. We had
it on at the station. Everybody was cheerin' and whoopin'. Boy, you guys
sure made the department look good. I tell you, it was great to see those
slimy reporters have to say something good about us for once. Made my day.
Made my Sergeant's too. Hey, Detective, how's it working with the Mountie?
Must be a lot of work getting in deep, pounding away at it, trying new
things. The investigations you do, I mean. Real exciting stuff." 

"Uh huh. Look, its late and we gotta get home. I mean I gotta get the
*Constable* here to his apartment so's I can go home, ya know? And I gotta
fight my way through those reporters you were talkin' about. They're
camped on my front lawn." 

"Hey, there's no need to worry 'bout them, Detective. We saw how they was
crowded around your house. But there was this other Mountie, you know? He
come out on your porch and told 'em about some ordinance nobody knew about
and they had to back off like, two hundred yards or something." 

"Ah, that would be Ordinance number #169 of the civil codes of the state
of Illinois . . . I believe," Fraser finished weakly as Ray swung his
burning glare in his direction. 

"You loaned my State's Ordinance book to Frobisher, Benny?" 

"I--" Fraser finally  nodded his head. 

"Look, Detective," the officer interjected as another patrol car stopped
by them, "My buddy, Claire there," he said indicating the officer who'd
just arrived, could take your Mountie partner home if you like and I could
give you an escort home, get you through the thinned ring of reporters
with no trouble at all." 

"Hey, Bob, you got the daring duo. I can't believe the people you run into
out here sometimes. Officer Fraser, I'd be *really* pleased if you'd let
me give you a ride home." Claire circled around and opened his car door.
"Is it far from here? Never mind, doesn't really matter. In fact it'll
just give us more time to get to *know* each other." 

"I appreciate the offer ma'am--" 

"Cut the ma'am stuff, will ya? Come on," she urged and tugged on his arm
to get him out and moving. 

"Ray--" 

"You can see what the inside of an *American* patrol car looks like. Bet
ya don't get much chance to do that, what with being stuck with a
plain-clothes detective all the time. Wanna run the lights?" She backed
him toward her open passenger door. 

"Um, no, I-- Ray?" Fraser called over her shoulder. 

"Don't worry, Detective. She'll take good care of him." He leaned back
against Ray's door. "She's one of the best officers in the precinct. I'd
say *the* best but I don't need to be ribbed 'bout being prejudiced 'bout
her. She and me, we kinda . . . we're gonna get married. Soon as I make
detective. Claire don't want us at the same precinct married. Be kinda
hard on her. She's where she wants to be, on the streets." 

Ray watched in indecision as Claire loaded his lover up and prepared to
haul him out of sight. Suddenly Fraser pushed his way from the car and ran
the few steps to Ray's open window. Suddenly Bob was no longer there and
Ray suspected Benny might have *shoved* the man aside. He was too
distracted by the pained look on his lover's face to have noticed. 

"Ray, Francesca and I . . . It's not . . . You see . . . " 

"No, Benny. I *don't* see, and I'm not sure I want to." Ray bowed his
head. 

"Better get a move on, Constable," Bob urged as he laid a hand on Fraser's
shoulder. "I ran the plate when I was pulling you two over and if some
news-hound hears the name Vecchio in the response this place could be
swarming in no time." 

Fraser was moved backwards by Bob's gentle hand. 

"No!" He stopped firm. "Ray, I didn't learn it with Francesca. Francesca
and I have *never*--" he glanced at the officers beside him. "Nothing has
ever happened between Francesca and myself. Nothing of that nature.
Nothing. Do you understand?" he pleaded. 

Ray looked up into blue eyes greyed by the street lights. His lover looked
so devastated, so in need of reassurance. Claire easily maneuvered the
silent Mountie into her car. 

Ray finally found his senses. "Yes, Benny! I understand," he called just
before the passenger door was closed. He nodded vigorously at the smiling
Mountie and returned his smile, adding a sense of relief to it. * * * 

"Shopping?" Ray read the telephone message from Benny with his usual
outrage at anything that differed from his perception of what his day
would be like. "Lunch. That's what he said when he phoned yesterday.
Promised we'd get together for lunch now that Thatcher's let him back out
of that anti-publicity cage," he explained to the empty air around his
desk. Thankfully the extra attention he'd received from the press and his
colleagues alike had faded away during the last two days after a hellish
week and Ray had counted on a chance to spend a quiet hour with Benny. The
first chance they'd had to meet face to face since that stupid diamond
thief had *dared* to use his beloved Riv as a get-away car. 

Ma and Frobisher were going out for lunch today too. He'd rather not have
overheard *that* this morning. "Back to the beach" she'd said to Frannie
as he came in the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee. Both women had
giggled. Unbelievable! 

And now this. Benny leaving a phone message for him, changing their plans
to *shopping* during Ray's lunch hour. They were supposed to meet on the
corner of Chesterfield and Darby. He mangled the note by folding it in
haphazard halves several times and stuffed it in his jacket pocket as he
stormed into Welsh's office. His Lieutenant granted him the rest of the
afternoon off before Ray could work up a satisfying head of steam. Somehow
Ray felt let-down by this as he stalked out. *** 

No Fraser. Ray surveyed the sidewalks again and saw no Red serge, no RCMP
uniform of any kind. He slumped against a store front and glared at his
shoes. Luantoni's. Supposed to be a new up and coming brand. Well, at
least they were comfortable. But the quality of the leather really
wouldn't begin to reveal itself until he'd worn them a day or so. 

Legs came into his view. Long legs wrapped in sheer silk. Smooth shaved
legs with shin bones defined, calves that tapered down to strong ankles,
blue feminine shoes, flat-heeled and . . . perfectly  . . .  polished.
Ray's breath stopped. 

"Hello, Ray." 

His head swam. Ray clutched at the slick support of the marbled store
front at his back. He squeezed his eyes closed. He tried to get his lungs
to function. He forced his chest to expand and, miraculously, air was
pulled inside him. The fuzzy swirling sensation between his ears faded. He
kept breathing.  Shoes as highly polished as only a Mountie could manage. 

"Are you ready to do a little shopping? I realize you don't have much time
but you could help me pick out a few things and I can finish making my
selections after you return to work. Ray?" 

"Oh God," he managed weakly. 

"Ray, won't you open your eyes? You're beginning to worry me. I don't want
to have to carry you to a hospital. I'm hardly dressed for such strenuous
activity." 

"Dressed?" Ray strangled on the word. "Benny," he whispered, "what the
hell are you doing here?" 

"I'm meeting you Just as I said I would in the message I left with Elaine
this morning. Didn't you get it? Ray?" 

The cop opened his eyes. The blue shoes were still there, inches from his
own. He didn't flinch. He didn't move a single muscle except for the ones
connected to his numb eyeballs. The traitorous orbs rotated, up, slowly,
*very* slowly. Ankles. Yes, he'd seen those before, and the shins, the
curves of the calves, smooth calves, he noted a second time. Then the eyes
in his head saw knees. Kind of big, really, but they fit with the thighs.
Muscular thighs like a lady tennis player. Several pairs of legs popped
into mind as examples, all below white skirts or shorts, all running
around a tennis court, all on TV during some big match like that Wimbledon
thing in England. 

He moved his head, pulling his gaze higher up those thighs, outrageously
higher. Absurdly-- Jesus! Probably *four inches* before he came to a
skirt. It was green. Oh, that one Benny'd worn with the long bead things,
the dress with the low cut front and all those green buttons. Ray saw the
buttons. He saw the beads. He saw more skin, and finally, his lover's
apprehensive expression. 

"Hey," Ray said softly and caught his lover's hand in a reassuring grasp.
"Don't look so upset. You want to go shopping? We're going shopping. And
for as long as you like. I took the afternoon off." That got him a
delighted smile and a quick peck on the cheek. 

"That's a wonderful surprise, Ray. Thank you. Shall we go in to the shop?"


Ray took his lover's hand and was led into the clothing store. It was
quaint, at least that's the only word he could use to describe it. The
entrance door was an elaborate stained glass design depicting some nature
scene. At least Ray guessed that's what it was. Plants and a five pointed
star within a circle, some Russian lettering, a clear etching of a woman.
He bumped in to his lover as he backed into the place. 

"Sorry," Ray whispered and got an arched brow for his trouble. Quiet music
played in the background, something like, well it really sounded like
birds and rain. The walls were lined with double rows of racks, the floor
was covered in bright rugs that lapped over each other in no particular
pattern. And, he took a deep sniff. Incense, or scented candles were
burning somewhere. There wasn't a human being in sight. 

"Are you sure you wanna shop here?" 

"Yes, Ray. I've been by here a few times and only looked in through the
door. It's an intriguing shop, don't you think?" 

"Sure it is. I'm just a little . . . surprised by it, that's all, lover.
It's a great place, kinda . . . eclectic," he finished as he eyed the
racks of clothing. 

The place was a riot of colors and patterns. Ray spied a table with padded
chairs at it and made a bee-line for one. 

"No," Miss Fraser said as she tugged the man back to his feet. "I didn't
ask you to come with me so you could sit and stare like some trapped
animal. Come on, look around with me." 

"Ah, I see you've made it in the door, young man." 

Ray jumped and flinched closer to his lover. A woman stepped from behind
him and smiled softly. He eyed her suspiciously, taking in the long dress,
the jewelry, the flowing hair and eyes almost as blue as *Benny's*. 

"You've been waiting outside for quite some time. I'm glad to see your
companion finally arrived." She turned to the tall figure in the green
dress. "Is there anything I can help you with or would you prefer to
browse undisturbed?" 

"No need for you to trouble yourself, ma am. We'd like to . . . browse." 

"Fine," she nodded at the Mountie. "The dressing rooms are there. Just
leave the clothes you decide against in the dressing room and I'll return
them to the rack for you." 

Fraser nodded and the woman retired behind a high carved oak counter and
busied herself with paperwork. A hand lettered sign hung on the laptop
computer open at her right. 'Beta Readers R Us.' Curious, he thought. 

"Let's try over here, Ray." I was thinking of a short dress, something
without a lot of buttons or belts. What do you think?" 

Ray glanced back at the woman before returning his attention to his lover
who was holding up a very tiny white dress. "That? Benny, that'll *never*
fit you." 

"It's Lycra, Ray. And Spandex, probably. See? It stretches. It's supposed
to be tight. Wouldn't this look great with white nylons? And maybe
something . . . " He turned around looking at the displays. 

Ray put his lips against the ears he'd kissed so many times before.
"Something lacy underneath it all?" 

Fraser smiled. "You know, that's the first time you've called me Benny. I
mean, when I've been dressed like this," Fraser added and indicated the
green dress. 

"Is that okay?" Ray asked a little anxiously. "I don't want to keep
calling you Miss. I want something more . . . intimate." 

"That's fine, Ray. Now what lacy thing would you suggest?" 

Later the shopkeeper had two complete outfits of Benny's folded on her
counter but Ray was far from finished shopping. "Here's another red one,"
he said as he stuck the simple, sleeveless knitted dress in through the
dressing room door and darted out again. "I'll be back in a second to help
you get into it. I think I saw a sweater that'd go great with it," he
explained, aiming his words over the top of the partition. 

"Ray, there are quite a few clothes piled up in here. I don't think you
should add a sweater to--" 

"Here it is," "Ray exclaimed as he entered the cubicle and locked the
slatted door behind him. He scooped up two garments from the floor and
flung them over the top of the doorway, half hanging in the dressing room,
half out into the shop. "Let me just get that zipper for you. Hold still,
Benny. I don't want to snag- Ouch." 

"Oh, did you hurt yourself? Let me see your finger." 

A light kiss was delivered to Ray's pinched fingertip and he pulled his
lover into another embrace. The organdy party dress with yards of netting
and a terribly bulky skirt kept getting in his way as he tried to deepen
their kiss. When the out-of-control sash slipped around his neck Ray
pulled back and began to push the dress up in an attempt to get at the
body beneath it. 

Somehow during the process his belt was unbuckled, his pants came unzipped
and dropped around his ankles. "You're not exactly helping, you know," Ray
complained as he pushed the matching half-slip down. 

"Oh? *I* thought I was. Is this in your way?" Benny asked, tugging Ray's
jacket open. 

"Not really. But this is." He bit at the bra strap tugging it aside and
pushed his lover back against the wall. "Mind if I--" he thrust his hips
forward and tasted the flesh under the strap. A delighted moan met his
efforts as Ray explored under the piles of netting. 

"Are you *sure* you don't like this dress, Ray?" Miss Fraser leaned her
head back against the wall and moaned again as Ray began to suck along her
neck. The room was close and hot now and all thoughts of where they were
fled her mind. Ray teased mercilessly, running his fingers under the bra
and down to the elastic bands of the garter belt. She groaned and sought
his mouth out, ravaging the moistness. 

They rocked together feeling each others excitement, desire and delight.
Mounds of green surrounded them cushioning their embrace as the enjoyed
each other. 

"Ray, don't crush the fabric. Its rather delicate. I don't understand how
women can be convinced to purchase clothing that is obviously designed to
last no more than for a few wearings. Such wastefulness would make it
imperative that they spend an inordinate amount of time shopping,
constantly requiring replacements and necessitating a large selection to
be available in their closets at all times." 

"I know, Benny," Ray allowed some of his frustration to show. "Have you
ever seen the ridiculous amount of clothes Frannie has?" 

"Hey!" a terribly familiar voice called irately over the partition. "I do
*not* have a ridiculous amount of clothes, Ray Vecchio. You take that
back." 

They froze. Ray had that distinct "caught smoking in the confessional"
look and Fraser had his familiar "deer caught in headlights" look. Ray
shook hi s head frantically. No. It couldn't be-- 

Fraser nodded slowly. Yes. It *had* to be-- 

"And by the way. You guys owe me fifteen bucks. You ran out half my gas
the other night." 

"We did not!" Ray retorted without hesitation. "Maybe a quarter of a tank,
Frannie, but no where *near* half. And just what makes you so sure it was
us?" he asked turning toward the door to make his voice penetrate the
slatted panel better. 

"Because you left something *behind*." She tossed a grayish tube over the
top. 

Ray caught it instinctively and eyed the item in horror. He bent to pull
his pants up and stuffed the tube away in his pocket. Frannie's head
appeared over the door top. "Hey! Get down from there! Are you climbin'
the walls or something?" he scooted back to block her view of His partner,
half clad in a dress and him zipping his Armani trousers up. 

"Ohhh," Ray groaned and Fraser clutched at him to lend support. "I'm gonna
be sick." 

"Not on the dress!" the shopkeeper called and appeared beside Frannie. 

"I'll take the dress," Fraser hastily assured her. "And the other one and
the sweater. Now would you both please climb down from the chairs you are
standing on and give us a moment of privacy? Thank you kindly." 

Frannie grinned at him and hopped down. The shopkeeper eyed the crushed
fabric billowing about the two and reluctantly joined the dark haired
woman. "A relative of yours, Frannie?" 

"Yeah, Dy," she answered and chuckled. "My brother, Ray. The other one's
his friend Be--" 

"Frannie!" Ray warned. "We don't really need no formal introductions." 

"His friend," she continued in a louder tone, "who's name I *don't* know."


Ray heard snickering. He just *knew* it! "I'm gonna have ta *kill* her.
You realize that, don't 'cha?" 

"Now Ray--" 

"Don't *now Ray* me. There's only one of us that's gonna walk outta this
shop alive. It's her or me," he explained as he tucked his shirt in and
straightened his suit jacket. "She's not gonna let me live after this. I
remember what she did to Laurie Petracelli in tenth grade after Laurie
accepted an invitation to a prom from this guy Frannie had her eyes on.
Believe me, I'd rather be dead than let my sister have a chance at doing
that to me. And this was over a guy she was just *interested* in, not some
guy she'd been mooning over forever." 

"Ray, You're not listening to me. Francesca is *no longer*, as you put it,
mooning over me." 

Dy nudged Frannie and arched a brow at her. 

Frannie nodded and whispered, "It's true. I haven't been for a long time."


"Since when?" Ray challenged. 

"Since three months ago," Frannie answered loudly. 

Ray stuck his head out the open door and glowered at the two. "And just
why not?" 

A bare arm hauled him back inside and the door was closed firmly. "Help me
with this, please. Apparently Francesca surmised that I was involved with
someone and she ceased her amorous advances." 

"All right. I give up, Frannie. Just who did you think Benny was involved
with?" 

"Ray, I can't reach this-- Thank you kindly. Now if you would just hand
that dress out to--Ouch! A pin--the shopkeeper, I would have enough room
to redress myself. Why don't you go out and sit at the table, join your
sister-- Oh, Ray. You look awfully flushed." 

"Benny, just-- just put this on. I wanna get outta here." 

"Oh, I don't want to wear that one home again. I want to wear the one with
the sweater. Could you move your foot?" 

"May I snip the tags off for you?" the shopkeeper offered. "And if you'll
had me the green dress you wore in I'll package it with your purchases." 

The items appeared over the door, flopping onto the women's faces. They
only giggled more. 

"Eww," Francesca commented loudly as she held up the green dress with its
row of buttons. "This is all wrong for you. These sleeves must look
horrible on you. And the *shoulders*, are all wrong. You really should
toss this in the trash, Fraser." 

Ray groaned. 

"I mean, Ray's friend who's name I don't know. Do you really want this to
be put with the stuff Ray's buying you?" 

"Perhaps you're right about that dress. And Ray is not buying these things
for me. He accompanied me only to give me his opinion." 

"What?" she asked indignantly. "Ray, you take Fra-- your friend shopping
and don't *pay*? Wait till *Ma* hears about *this*!" 

"Oh dear," Fraser murmured as Ray stormed out of the dressing room. 

"Frannie," he started low, advancing as she withdrew across the shop, "why
aren't you at the beach? It's lunch time, isn't it? Didn't you and Ma say
something about going there for lunch today?" 

"I-- No, I--" Frannie wadded the dress repeatedly. 

"So you're telling me that you let *our* mother go *alone* with that *man*
to a deserted beach to have a *picnic*? On a *blanket*? By them-*selves*?"


"Ray." 

He turned at the soft call of his name. Benny stood in the dressing room
doorway. The red knitted dress fit perfectly. It was short and simple, and
Benny had put the white cardigan with its red piping on over it. 

"Oh, that looks *great*," Frannie gushed as she darted around her brother
and joined the shopkeeper who was straightening the sweater sleeves. "You
could push the sleeves up like this, and the dress can come up a bit
around the waist. Oh, much better length, don't you think so Ray? And the
white sweater breaks up the vertical line of the red." 

"And do you want to change into the red shoes you picked out earlier?" the
shopkeeper asked as she retrieved them from the pile of purchases on the
counter. She began tallying up the items as Fraser slipped into the new
shoes. 

Ray realized he was staring. The red was bold but the look of it all,
everything together was actually kind of understated, classic. It looked--
*Benny*, looked good. Frannie cleared her throat and he flicked his
startled gaze at her. She smiled back at him. Ray glowered and pulled his
wallet out. He slapped a credit card on the counter and heard Benny's
indrawn breath. 

He whirled around and held his index finger up in the air, warning them
both to stay silent. He gathered up the packages, nodded to the
shopkeeper, glared at his sister and held the door open for Benny. ~ * ~ *
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~   

Be sure to catch the next episode of: A Buck and Change 10 or The Meal! 
Its double digits, folks and I'll be celebrating with my *favorite* slash
ingredient! ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ 

Cuffs R Us quiz department, under the Management of Ms. L. Taylor is
delighted to bring you another of their titillating and mind expanding
quizzes. Please, enjoy. Quiz 1 What is Illinois State ordinance #169?	a
Citizens must not attempt oral sex in zero gravity.  b Citizens must
remove false appendages before drinking orange juice.  c Citizens must
sacrifice pigeons on every 5th Wednesday in March.  d Obstructive citizens
will be given laxatives.  e Obstructive citizens will be given jail
sentences.  2 What does, 'Wanna run the lights' mean?	a Would you like
to engage in a running race?  b Would you like to engage in a speedy
session of sex?  c Would you like to tour the prostitute zone?	d Would
you like to purloin the stop signals?  3 What is Spandex?   a A chemical
for enlarging male genitalia?  b An expandable telescope?  c A Circus
performer?  4 How did Ray define Ben's thighs?	 a Like a rugby player's 
b Like a cello players	c Like a tennis players  Fill in the blanks. 
5 When Ray was looking at Miss Fraser for the first time, he noticed ____
was four inches above her knees. 

6 Ray clutched at the slick support of ___ ___ ___ ____. 7 "Ray, don't
crush ___ ______. It's rather delicate." 

8 His lieutenant granted him the ____ before Ray could work up a
satisfactory head ____ ____. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ ANSWERS 

1 e 

2 e 

3 c 

4 c 

5 Her skirt hemline. 

6 the marbled store front. 

7 The fabric. 

8 afternoon off, of steam. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ End Disclaimer: This
story is written for the private entertainment of fans. No infringement of
any copyrights held by Alliance Communication, CBS, CTV, or any others is
intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not
give permission for this story to be reproduced in any form. The author
makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of
this story. Mitch_H@hotmail.com geocities.com/soho/lofts/5843/mh-fict.htm